A Distastefull Contract
by dastardos
Summary: What seems to be just another plain old Brotherhood contract turns out to be much more off, and much, much more personal to the Argonian. Noxtain is stuck in a very hard place, do as must and murder his own husband Marcurio, or keep his lover alive and feel the potential wrath of the Brotherhood and The Sweet Nightmother
1. Chapter 1

_"Listener..."_ The Nightmother's dry, rugged voice run in Noxtain's head. The Argonian froze, all joints locked in place, his ever-swishing tail went rigid in concentration. He was at home in Whiterun, mixing potions as per usual... _"A contract has been made, child of Sithis..."_ The Lady of Death's droning inflection clung to him as if it was dripping, sogging Black Marsh algae. "Go, go to Riften, The Ratway my Listener... You'll find her..." As soon as the chilling 'conversation' started it had ended.

 _Shhnap-_ the potion bottle Noxtain had been grasping shattered,"Tsssht, damn it!" The Argonian shook his clawed hands in frustration, wincing as different sizes of shards fell loosely out of his palms. "Everything all ri- by the Gods, Nox!" Marcuio had popped around the corner, the loud cursing of his husband had alerted. The Imperial's pale eyes glimmered at the shattered glass, "What happened?" He hurried to his husband, placing his hand delicately on the Argonian's shoulder, "Didn't your mother teach you not to play with glass?" He quipped.

The Dragonborn's nostrils flared slightly, but he couldn't keep back a small chuckle, "Nothin'..." He looked down at the floor, "Just got a contract, focused to hard, and well... This," he held open his palms, and Marcuio did an over dramatic gasp, "I'll fetch some water, dear. Need any cloth to bind the wounds?" The Mage asked. Noxtain shook his cranium, "No, it's not that bad," his tail started to twitch again as normal, "Some water is fine, though. Then I've ought to be off," Noxtain voiced, nuzzling his scaled head into his husband's chest, "Love ya," his voice muffled by the Imperial's off-yellow robes. "Your timing is always so... Awful," the mage chuckled.


	2. Chapter 2

"Riften... The Ratway, who could be down there?" Noxtain muttered to himself, rattling off names in his head, _"The Guild wouldn't dare turn on me..."_ he thought. The Argonian clicked his tongue in boredom, as he ventured deeper into the disgusting hole that was The Ratway. _"You are near..."_ The Nightmother's strained tone rung through his mind, causing his eyes to blur for a few moments. He trucked on, his Brotherhood boots stepping soundlessly into God's knows what. "Sweet mother, sweet mother..." A soft, raspy murmur rung down a corridor near him. The Dragonborn froze and homed in, turning left towards the person's prayers. He stopped, the voice was ever prominent now, "Sweet mother..." it begged.

A Nordic woman was on her bruise clad knees, leaning forward slightly, her hands folded in deep prayer. The Argonian approached, folding his arms, putting on his tough guy facade, "Your prayers have been heard, child of Sithis!" His Black Marsh accent rung heavily through the halls. The adult went rigid, slowly putting her dirt caked mitts on the ground. "I-It worked..." She looked up at the man before her, "Hail Suh-Sithis!" she cried, suddenly jumping up onto her bare feet, a smile smeared across her face. Noxtain scowled at the over jubilant woman, "Do not celebrate yet," he scorned, "What is it that you've prayed, child of Sithis?" he questioned, tail overly long tail swishing from side to side. The Nordic woman hopped from foot to foot, "Oh yes!" She turned around and ran to the sacrifice area, bent over, and snatched up a ragged book. "This is about the Dragonborn- no, not the current one..." Noxtain's eye ridge quirked in utmost curiously, _"Does this skinback not realize I'M the dragonborn...? Thought it was common knowledge by now..."_ She swung the book wildly through the air, "But! My request deals little with the Dragonborn... Sort of, ehhahah..." Her lower lip quivered in pure excitement. The Listener was starting to get rather nervous from this Nord's odd behavior, quivers of anxiety started sprawling through his mind in a matter of seconds. "Everybody knows that the Dragonborn has joined the Imperials..." Her voice curled in utter disgust, "I'm smart enough to know that a hit on him would be... Ehhh, stupid." The Nord women's free hand lifted to her matted hair, scratching at it vigorously.

Noxtain squinted in disgust at the unkempt woman, "Yes... Go on," he voiced. "So..." She spun on her heel and walked around, back and forth in front of the Dark Brotherhood leader, "In the name of the true Nords, I've made a contract on his lover!" She smashed the dirty old book onto the ground, spitting on it with glee. Noxtain's breath hitched in his throat, he knew his panic was very visible now. "Oh? Nervous to take such a hit? Didn't you band of misfits take down the Emperor?" She cocked a smile, puffed out her chest and folded her arms. Noxtain's mind was spinning, "What do I say... I can't do this!" he cleared his throat loudly, "No, It's naw-not that, just thinking of... Possible ideas..." He straightened up his posture. The Nord woman laughed hideously, "Aye... Anyone tell yah you look sorta like 'em? The Dragonborn?" His Argonian's nostrils flared, "Yes... We share the same rare pigment of scales, I'm fully aware..." He held his gold stare onto the Nord, trying to pass off his blatant lie. He noticed her stance was trembling slightly. "Alright then... Uhhmm.. Oh, payment!" She clasped her hands together, and riffled through her stingy pockets, "You'll get more after the act," She yanked out a pouch, "About... Eh, let's see here... 8,000 coin?" She flashed a grin, "Got more for yah... I been workin' forever for this moment! Sold everything I had, stole everything I could, and then some!" She thrusted the coin into his chest, Noxtain had to fumble for it, lest it drop to the rotten filth on the ground. "Well, see you later!" Before the Argonian could even blink, the ragged woman turned heel and darted deep into the wet, disgusting Ratways.

Noxtain stood, absolutely in shock. It felt like Nirn itself was about to flip upside down, _"Listener..."_ The Nightmother's tone sliced the silence with it's dry tone once more, almost spooking the Argonian. Anger started to rush into Noxtain, "No!" He cried out, "I'm not... I can't do it!" His voice trembled along the walls, his legs felt to weak to support his already scrawny frame, _"You'll... Find a way..."_ Rasped the Nightmother. His eyes went blurry with tears, "No... I can't..."


	3. Chapter 3

Dawnstar, a cold little seaside town. A perfect place for the Brotherhood to set it's dark, bloody influences. Noxtain sat on the cold murky stone floor, back leaning on the wall of one of the many corridors. "You just gonna sit there 'n pout?" Grumbled a warm, familiar voice. The scaled man looked up- it was Nazir. "Yes," he muttered. The Redguard crouched down in a gargoyle stance, "What's got you down, brother?" He asked, his voice ringing around the silence filled halls. Noxtain stayed silent, his breath was heaved and shallow, "Oh no you don't. You're not cryin' on me, no you're not." Nazir grabbed the Arognian's shoulder, forcing him to stand up with him, "Now, tell me." He voiced sternly. The Listener sighed, leaning haphazardly on the cold, stone wall. "Got ah new contract... It's, rather personal to me." He rubbed his soft scaled hands together, shifting his gaze around the barren stone floor. Nazir's eyebrow quirked, "Someone y'know? Like, uh... Good shop keeper or something? You never get this upset over a little contract, Noxtain."

The Marshborn sighed, raising his hands to his head, "I don't want to talk about it, Nazir, respect that." "Well... I also respect your feelings, and you're very torn apart by this contract, hm? Now, tell me brother." The Argonian's gold tinged gaze moved up to face the Redguard, "It's another murder, like I've done God's knows how many times before," he paused, a slight whimper clenched his throat, "The call is on Marcurio." The Listener bit his tongue, eyes shifting off to the side once more. "...Ah..." Nazir mumbled, stroking his beard now understanding why his fellow brother was so distraught. He couldn't think of anything to say to him, no kind words, nothing came to his mind... How does one reply to something this shocking? "I can't do it, Nazir." The Redguard looked back at the Argonian, his stare locked onto his own. His eyes twinkled of promising tears, "I can't do it..." His voice hitched into a small cry, "I cannot kill my husband! Buh-by Sithis, I can't do that!"

The Listener turned to the side and started to pace back and forth, tail whacking into the stone wall as he did. His scaled frame shivered just from the pure thought of it- gruesome images spawned in his mind, "No!" He squalled, tears coming full force now. "Noxtain..." Nazir cautioned. The Argonian flung around, grabbing the Redguard by the collar, "What!?" Noxtain was breathing heavily, tears flowing down his snout, "What do you think I should do, Nazir? Just murder my own love? Or perhaps you'd prefer I'd take that scimitar of your's and juh-just jab it through my husband's chest!" The Argonian shouted, Nazir took the verbal beating with grimace. "Put me down." He demanded, voice as rigid as ever. Noxtain blinked the tears out of his hazy view, and slowly let the other man down. "I'm... I'm sorry," His tail lashed from side to side, as he tried to control his breathing. A few of the initiates had crept warily down the corridor. "My Listener," one of them spoke up, "Is everything alright?" She rubbed her hands together in genuine worry. "It's... It's fine," the Argonian lied, "I need some time to process," his gaze lingered back to Nazir, "I'm going to Whiterun for a while... Think this over," he turned to leave, but the Reguard put his dark hand on his shoulder, "Don't do anything drastic, Listener." Noxtain nodded, just staring at the ground. Nazir sighed and patted his shoulder, "See you soon, my brother."


End file.
